


creepy, cooky, altogether ooky

by Magali_Dragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Addams Family References, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Drabble Collection, F/M, Inspired by Addams Family, dont mind me, probably a crack fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: They’re creepy and they’re cooky, they’re altogether ooky...the Targaryen Family!
Relationships: Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 171
Kudos: 423





	1. in which the tarlys are new neighbors...

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble collection to celebrate my favorite month! Happy Halloween! I’ll be posting these throughout the month. I have about six so far. 
> 
> They will all be from Gilly POV, just FYI.

* * *

“Congratulations! Please don’t forget Lannister Realty in the future!”

The real estate agent had barely gotten out her goodbye and thrown the keys to their new home before she was speeding away down the drive, not looking back. Samwell Tarly didn’t think that real estate agents were supposed to be well, _afraid_ of their listings, but their agent certainly seemed terrified of the single-family home that had remained empty for some time before he and his wife Gilly and their young son had made the offer.

It seemed the previous tenets had moved out quickly, but Sam, for all his research, had been unable to figure out exactly what prompted them—and the previous five owners—to leave so soon after purchasing the home. Because of whatever this was, he and Gilly had managed to swing the mortgage on the large home despite their meager incomes as a medical school professor and nurse respectively.

He beamed, looking at the keys in his hands, and turned to Gilly, who was also smiling, her eyes bright and wide. “We own a home!”

“We do!” she exclaimed, laughing and jumping up into his arms, looking over at the house that stood beside theirs. She dropped to her feet again and he noted her slight frown. “Do you think everyone has left because of, well… _that_?”

_Dragonstone._

That was what the sign outside of the old mansion beside their modest home read, on a plaque set on a crumbling brick pillar that held two massive gates together, a lock in the center that resembled a screaming dragon head. It was a rather ominous home, he observed, with towers and turrets and large windows that looked as though eyes were staring out at them. It was made up of old brick and shiny stone that he was _pretty sure_ was obsidian, but he had never heard of obsidian being used for home building.

The name _Dragonstone_ was rather appropriate, as the mansion had dragons on the gates, the fencing, and stone dragons peering over the eaves instead of gargoyles. While he had not gotten close enough, Sam would not be surprised if there were dragons on the great blood-red doors that directly faced their home. H

He swallowed hard, finally tearing his gaze from the mansion, a peculiar feeling coming over him that the house was, well… _watching_ them. Maybe it was because the dormers looked like eyes. Or…or maybe there was someone inside it gazing out. It didn’t look like anyone even lived there. The gates looked rusted shut and there weren’t cars in the driveway.

Better to play it off, at least for his wife’s sake. She tended to worry over everything. “It’s just a house Gilly,” he said, but even he couldn’t really believe what he was saying. Gilly gave him a look that said she didn’t believe it either. There was no _way_ that Dragonstone was simply a house.

While they did get their home at a steal, Sam would not be lying if he said that he was ever so just _slightly_ nervous about whoever lived in the home next door. Surely someone lived there, despite its abandoned appearance. It hadn’t been on the market since the year someone built it, judging from his research. All he’d found were some historical records saying Dragonstone had earned the recognition as a historical landmark and could never be destroyed or changed without proper authorization. Whose authorization was a question mark. Some of the articles said it belonged to a family that had long since died out and it belonged to a trust. _DG Corporation_. He wasn’t sure what that was, his research on that particular group hadn’t led anywhere.

All he hoped was if it belonged to drug dealers they kept to themselves. Of course, his criminal records checks showed very low crime in the area, which was part of what appealed to him and Gilly. They had their son to think of after all.

He cleared his throat and tugged on her hand. He was getting nervous staring at the house. “Come on then, let’s go inside.”

“It’s just so… _creepy._ ”

“It’s just a h-h-h-house,” he stammered, at the same time he saw a light flick on in the upper dormer window. _Whoa._ That was the first indication they’d ahd anyone even lived there. _Maybe they heard us._ He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, tugging her towards their new home. “C-c-c-come on, let’s go inside.”

It was just a trick of the light, but he swore the image in the window resembled a wolf. Maybe it was just a dog. Yes, of course, it was a dog. Wolves didn’t live in houses after all.

And later that night, when he woke to a shriek, he figured it was the wind in the old hallways or perhaps a tree branch on the glass and not what it sounded like. He stared out the window beside Gilly and his bed, mouth falling at the shadows—they _had_ to be shadows—playing across the lawn of the mansion. He blinked a few times before taking another deep breath, hearing the screech. There was no way, they didn’t exist…he stared at the shadows again, the sound matching to the image…but no that couldn’t be…

There weren’t such things as…as… _dragons._

* * *

  
A few days after they moved in, Gilly met her new neighbors.

Sam didn’t think it was wise, he thought perhaps they should leave whomever lived there alone. She knew he worried they were drug dealers or another sort of criminal, but she didn’t worry about those sorts of things. They had to get to know their neighbors after all.

She really did not think anyone lived in Dragonstone anyway. While Sam feared the darkness of the building, it did not frighten her; she grew up in the far north and there were scarier things that existed beyond a large black house that happened to have some disturbing decorations. It also did not have very good landscaping, or so she thought; she loved flowers and thought perhaps the great yard and land around the home would do with some new trees and plants.

So she convinced Sam and their son, Little Sam, to come with her to the house with a large potted plant. She would meet their neighbors. There had to be someone who lived there, after all. Sam insisted he hadn’t seen cars, but when she’d gone on a walk with Little Sam, she’d seen tracks from a car leading up to the front, where a large fountain stood. There was no water in the fountain, but she could imagine it, seeing the water sluicing down the mouths of the three curved dragons in the center, pooling around it in the stone basin.

Other than the car tracks, sometimes she swore there was a great white dog that wandered around the property. Sam told her it was a trick of the light. She didn’t think so. There were also lights occasionally in the windows at nighttime; while Sam told her it could just be timed lighting, she saw movement too, curtains flicking back.

_Perhaps the neighbors were curious about them too._

Ultimately, she didn’t want to have to deal with Sam’s constant stammering about what might be living there and whether they made the right choice and how he should have done more research. He’d done more than enough research, she was so _tired_ of the research.

“Let’s just go, introduce ourselves to them, and be done with it,” she said, marching ahead to the front gate. Little Sam trudged behind her, glum because he had not met any new children his age in the neighborhood. Another reason for them to meet the neighbors. _Maybe their neighbors had children._

“B-b-but…”

“Samwell Tarly!” she exclaimed, rounding on him and poking him in the chest, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes bugged out. She scowled. “You were the one who thought this was a great home, you were the one who said that it did not matter about this house. _You_ convinced _me_!”

“Yes, but…”

Perhaps it was because the real estate agent had all but taken off like a shot once she offloaded the house to them, or maybe it was the strange sounds and movements coming from the dragon mansion. She knew Sam was easily frightened. When they visited their new home the house had stood there empty and dank, but now that it seemed there were actual people living in it, he grew worried. She walked up to the gate and studied it, looking for some sort of button or callbox to alert the people there of their presence.

“How are we supposed to let them know we are here?” she wondered.

“Too bad, we can go home!” Sam exclaimed, preparing to rush back to the house. As she was about to shout, the iron gate creaked open, pushing inward just as she was about to try the handle. “Oh my,” Sam fretted.

“Cool,” Little Sam said.

“Come on then!”

They went up the stone path, slightly overgrown, to the large double front doors. They must have been at least twelve feet tall! They were crimson red, the paint slightly chipped around the frame. As they grew closer she saw movement in one of the front windows. Her heart beat a bit faster in her chest and she noted the dragon doorknocker on one door and a snarling wolf on the other. “I wonder when they built this house,” Sam wondered, turning in a circle and looking back out towards where they’d come from.

“I thought you researched it?”

“Yeah but it didn’t say _when_ it was built. Had to be at least 100 years ago for the historical declination but…” Sam trailed off, frowning at the doorknockers. He pointed to one. It was the dragon, but set beside two others in a circle, three heads to the body. “This looks like the seal of an old family in Westeros.” He pointed to the other, the snarling wolf. “And that one too.”

Old families or not, it was rude to remain out on the stoop like strange stalkers. She moved by him and went to lift up the wolf knocker, when instead the door swung open. “Oh!” she exclaimed, jumping backwards into Sam, who grabbed for her in surprise. The only one not surprised was Little Sam, who was on his knees at her feet, watching a bug crawl across the stone.

There was a small woman standing in the doorframe, rather slight, with dark brown hair chopped to her chin and peculiar gray-colored eyes. She wore a frown on her face to go with the strange old-fashioned brown and gray leather attire, complete with a one-shouldered sort of cape garment and knee-high boots. Gilly smiled, about to say something, but her voice caught in her throat at the sight of a sword on the woman’s hip. “Oh…um…”

The woman cocked her head, remaining unsmiling. Her voice was cool; it sent a chill straight through Gilly. “Hello.”

They gaped for a moment, before Gilly remembered her manners and thrusted the plant forward. “Um…yes…hello!” She waited for the woman to take the plant; she looked at it as if it was about to eat her, holding it out almost a foot from her body. “My name is Gilly, we just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce ourselves!” She pointed to herself and then gestured towards Sam and her son. “This is my husband Sam and our son, Little Sam.”

The woman studied Little Sam, who was scratching at his hair now. He got up and waved. She frowned. “He doesn’t look very little.”

“Well he is almost six now, but it’s just what we call him.”

“Hmm…” The woman looked at the plant in her hands, frowning at it. “You brought a plant.”

“Yes, I saw that you have some…” Gilly glanced at the various tangles of vines around the house. It really could have done with some landscaping. “Interesting flora. I thought perhaps you might like something else to add to your gardens.”

“Nice.”

Another voice, far more feminine this time, filtered through the house. “Arya? Who is it?”

The door opened further, the young woman who she believed was this Arya, and both Sam and Gilly dropped their mouths at the sight. The woman standing next to the other one was also rather petite, but where the one with the sword was far straighter, this one was all soft curves and appeared as though she had been poured into the black dress she wore, with a dragon chain around her body and a red sash hanging down over her shoulder to dust the floor.

And her hair…it was _silver._

Gilly had to think she was probably one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. It was like light radiated off of her, everything shining. She stepped closer, almost to see if this person was real. Only to stop again, stunned when she saw the color of the woman’s wide eyes. They were _purple._ She didn’t even know you could _have_ purple eyes. “Um…” she stuttered, pushing her hand to her chest. “My name is Gilly. We just moved in next door.”

The tiny woman jumped and clapped her hands like a child, giggling like one as well. “Oh! New neighbors! How lovely!” She pushed by the other woman, chiding at her. “Arya, where are your manners? Please, come inside! It is cold out; we wouldn’t want you to get sick!”

Sam tugged on her elbow, hissing. “Do you think…”

They did not have a chance to say anything because suddenly they were in a large foyer, just as dark and ominous as the rest of the house, with dragons and wolves on most of the dark tapestry covered walls. She glanced at the carpet, so crimson it almost looked black. The bannister leading up to the second level was made of the same odd black shiny stone and one newel post was carved into a wolf and the other a dragon.

They really did like their animal motifs, she thought, turning her head. “Oh gods!” she screamed, jumping backwards into Sam, who almost yelped, both of them immediately fearful of the silent white… _dog_. Or maybe it wasn’t a dog, if it was a dog it was the largest dog she had ever seen. It was so white she thought maybe it was a ghost, except it had _red_ eyes. It stared at her intensely; she thought someone might have even been watching her through its eyes, it was so _human_.

Little Sam was not deterred by the dog’s size or its peculiar eyes. He stepped towards it; hand outstretched. “Wow! Big dog!”

“Sam no!” she exclaimed, grabbing for him. She stepped backwards to the door, preparing to whisk her son away from the vicious animal. Even though the animal hadn’t made one move towards her son other than cocking its head curiously.

“This is Ghost,” the silver-haired woman purred, leaning down—not very far since the dog almost came to her shoulder—to ruffle his ears. She kissed his nose, the dog licking at her cheek. She giggled again, like a little girl. “And he’s not a dog, he’s a wolf.”

Sam yelped. “A wolf!? Is that legal?”

“Of course.”

They all looked up at the second level and Gilly’s eyes further widened, staring up at what she thought might be one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Of course, she hastily thought, she loved Sam dearly but… _gods._ The man who took a step down towards them was wearing an all black suit, tailored perfectly to his thin yet muscular frame. He had black curly hair pulled halfway from his face into a bun and a trimmed black beard. She noted that his gray eyes were the same shape and color as the other woman. _Perhaps they were related._

He walked, no he— _glided_ — down the staircase, coming to stand by the beautiful silver-haired woman, who beamed at him, immediately molding against him. “My love,” she purred, dragging a blood-red nail down over his pale face. She pursed her lips. “Arya brought us new neighbors!”

“I was thinking of making them a pie,” Arya said. There was a somewhat demonic gleam in her eyes.

Gilly lifted her brows and Little Sam looked up from where he’d been digging his shoe into a knot in the wooden floor. “I like pies,” he piped up. He cocked his head. “What kind? I like apple.”

Arya pursed her lips, a smile still tugging at them and her eyes flashed, glancing sideways at the man, who was glaring at her, almost in warning. “I can make an apple pie. I think.”

“No,” the man said, final. Arya stuck her lower lip out in a pout. He turned his face back to them, apologizing. “My sister is not that good of a baker, you really wouldn’t like her pies.”

“The dragons do,” the woman said.

“Dragons?” Little Sam asked. Gilly laughed, nervous again; maybe Sam was right—perhaps they should have just left their neighbors to themselves. She was getting quite a strange vibe from them. Very intense and…just plain _odd._ It was like they were from another world. She took sight of the lanterns and old-fashioned oil lamps on the walls. Or another time, maybe.

Sam cleared his throat, pushing by her and offering his hand. “My name is Samwell Tarly, this is my wife Gilly and our son Little Sam. We’ve already met your…”

“Sister,” he and the brown-haired woman said at the same time.

The silver-haired woman had now wound herself almost entirely around the man, her violet eyes boring holes into them. It made Gilly oddly uncomfortable how close they were to each other. She was all one for public affection, she did not consider herself too prudish, but this was almost too much, especially in front of perfect strangers. The woman made a sound like a purr, dragging her finger down his face, her bright red lips pulling up over her teeth. “This is my husband Jon.” She licked her lips, her pupils turning her eyes almost entirely black. “ _Issa zokla._ ”

Gilly arched her brows at the odd language, but even more so when the man named Jon made a sound like a growl, sweeping the woman around and lifting her feet off the ground; she wasn’t wearing any shoes and her toenails were painted the same blood red as her nails. “Gods Dany, you know how the Valyrian makes me.”

“Of course, I know.”

Arya grinned. “Ignore them. They’re foul, especially when Dany speaks Valyrian.”

Sam gaped, shaking his head and pulling on her hand. “We should leave.”

The woman spoke, Gilly guessed this was the _Dany_ that Arya referenced. “Oh no don’t leave, Jon was just forgetting his manners. He can be such an uncouth wolf. By the way _zokla_ , you seemed upset when you came down just now, whatever happened?” Gilly couldn’t tell how she knew that the man was upset, he seemed to have a perpetually dour look.

The man—Jon—shrugged. “I wanted you to know that Lyanna started another fire but I put it out.” He looked over at Little Sam, smiling down at him, but the smile did not meet his eyes. “And it seems we may finally have a friend for our little Lyanna.”

“You have a daughter?” Sam asked. Gilly wasn’t sure why he was nervous to ask, but she supposed he should be. This entire introduction had been quite odd. _Surreal_ was probably a better term for it.

The woman—Dany—beamed, with the glow only a mother could have for the mention of her child. Gilly smiled, pleased to see it, as she recognized it completely, having felt the same pride at the mention of her son. “Yes! Our little Lyanna, she’s six.” She turned back to the house, walking over to the bannister and banged her hand on the wall, the sound of her small hand somehow—rather unnaturally—reverberating through the house. “Lyanna!” she bellowed, with a volume and strength that belied her tiny frame.

Jon idly brushed at his suit lapel, rather bored. “She’s probably in the dungeons.”

Sam and Gilly shot each other horrified looks. _Dungeons!?_

“She loves the dungeons,” Arya said. She handed the plant to Dany. She smirked. “I’m going to go find Gendry. I think he’s probably had enough of the shackles.”

_Shackles!?_

Just who exactly were these people, Gilly wondered, trying to smile but found herself gripping Little Sam’s shoulders tight so he didn’t try to lunge for the wolf, which had moved closer to his master, all glowing red eyes and blinding white fur. She was trying not to be frightened or at least _show_ how frightened she was but it was proving difficult the longer they were in the company of these people. She smiled, weak. “Um…so your names…” She was trying to say them, but found her voice caught in her throat. “Um…”

“Oh of course, so sorry!” The woman pressed her hand to her chest, her violet eyes earnest. “My name is Daenerys and this is my husband Jon.” She rose on her toes. “ _Issa zokla._ ”

The same words she’d said before had the man growling again, nipping at her lower lip, which she stuck out as she grit her teeth, and growling as well. “Speak more Valyrian and we’ll see the wolf.”

“Valyrian?” she finally asked, confused, at the same time Sam exclaimed in immediate curiosity. “Valyrian!?”

Dany turned, her back pressed against her husband’s front. Gilly blinked, shocked, as the little woman wiggled herself against him in a rather obscene manner. Jon simply kissed her temple, muttered something to her and she frowned, but backed off of him. “Oh yes, my family hails from Old Valyria, it’s my mother tongue.” She stepped to Sam, violet eyes expanding, that girlish curiosity returning. “Do you know Valyrian?”

“Ah…I studied it as an elective in college, but I am afraid I did not pick it up well.”

“That’s too bad.” She glanced at Gilly, smiling warmly. “Valyrian does wonderful things for the soul, it is the only language suited for poetry.” She turned back to her husband, biting his lower lip. “And it does incredible things for passion.”

“Indeed,” Jon said, kissing her again. He turned his intense gaze on them both. “Thank you for the plant.”

Gilly’s mouth fell slightly, unsure what to say to that. She jumped, skittish, when she heard the sound of something—or someone—screaming. “What…what’s that?”

The couple exchanged bored looks. “Probably Bran,” Dany said. She sighed, waving her hand nonchalantly. “My brother-in-law, he keeps ravens. They are dreadfully loud sometimes.” She frowned, glancing at Jon. “Oh darling, do you think it could be Viserys? I thought I told Lyanna to keep him from the fire.” She sighed, her smooth brow wrinkling in annoyance. “He really should know by now that he is not a dragon.”

“I’ll go check.” Jon smiled at them both again, in that rather bored, vacant away. “It was nice to meet you both. I will send Lyanna over whenever we find her.”

Dany clapped her hands again, gesturing for them to enter further into the house. “Would you like to come in for something to drink? We have a lovely Arbor Gold that my dear friend Tyrion left us after he…” She trailed off, a somewhat sad look on her beautiful face. Before she wiped it completely and beamed some more. “Went on holiday.”

Sam pulled at her elbow, which Gilly did not mind at all, taking her step backwards as well. “Um, we should really get back home.” He spoke loudly, stammering. “M-m-my b-b-brother k-k-knows…”

“He’s saying his brother is expecting us.” It was a lie, but Gilly was just as terrified of this strange family as Sam was now. Even if she still wanted to know more. Like how the woman in front of her looked so _young._ Or at least looked like she hadn’t given birth, her stomach as flat as anything. Gilly self-consciously touched her abdomen. She still carried a couple of stubborn pounds from Little Sam. She shot him a look; he was still trying to get to the wolf, who had remained dutifully at his mistress’s side.

The woman smiled again. “That’s wonderful. My brother lives with us too. As does my great-uncle. Aemon. Don’t worry if you see him wandering around, he’s blind but he gets by just fine. Also, my husband’s little sister and brother live with us, sometimes his other sister visits but she’s a _horrible_ bore, so _normal_.”

Gilly shuddered to think what this family thought was normal. It was clear that they had a rather peculiar take on things. Manners, décor, pets…they mentioned dungeons and fire the way she referred to Little Sam playing with trains and cars. “Um, we need to go. We will…ah…enjoy the plant!”

They were out of the house faster than she thought she could move, almost hauling Little Sam up off the ground and carting him over her shoulder. She grabbed his hand instead, hurrying back down the driveway and beyond the iron gates, not stopping until they were back at their house, door shut and locked.

She heaved her breath, rushing upstairs to their bedroom, throwing open the curtains and staring at the house, eyes wide. She stared across the way, to the big mansion, with its vines, iron, and dragons. “Who the seven hells are they?” she gasped.

Sam shut their door and looked out with her, shaking his head. “I have no idea, but Little Sam is _never_ going over there.”

_Agreed._


	2. in which we meet lyanna....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tarlys meet Lyanna Snow. And her favorite pastime.

“Sam! Where are you? You come when I call for you!” Gilly scowled, unable to find her son anywhere in the house. It wasn’t that big and there were only so many places he could be, and yet it seemed he disappeared. She grabbed a hamper of laundry, carrying it down the stairs and to the laundry room, setting it on the washing machine, figuring she might as well start a load when she saw her son outside. She sighed, tossing a dirty towel back into the hamper. “There you are.”

She walked outside, calling to him. “Little Sam! You come when I call you! How many times have I told you not to come out here without letting me know?” She was so busy chastising her son and walking across the backyard to him that she only saw as she approached him that he wasn’t alone.

There was a little girl sitting in the grass beside him, black curls pulled from her face with a velvet bow. She was wearing a rather old-fashioned sort of gown over a pair of leggings and boots. Her coat had a silver dragon pin on it. She looked so pale, Gilly thought, as though she never saw the sunlight. Her eyes were a peculiar shade of violet. _Like Daenerys from next door._

Her mouth dropped. “Oh! I didn’t realize you had a…friend.”

“This is Lyanna,” Little Sam introduced. He didn’t need to explain but did. “She lives next door.”

“I’m Lyanna, I live next door,” the girl repeated, verbatim. She had a very serious expression, as though she never smiled. Until suddenly her face broke its stoniness and her smile took up her whole face. “I was showing Sam one of my favorite tricks.”

“Ah…what’s that?” She reached for her son, but Sam moved out of the way, clearly intent on showing her whatever it was this sad little girl could do. She seemed nervous, watching as Lyanna carefully reached into her satchel, a small black bag at her feet. The girl removed something small and leaned over the pile of leaves set before Little Sam.

Gilly was about to ask what exactly the trick entailed, because it seemed to be taking a bit, when suddenly the leaves went up into flames, orange sparks jumping high enough to singe her son’s eyebrows if she hadn’t yanked him out of the way in a terrified yelp, spinning to grab something to put out the fire—it just _appeared_ out of thin air!

She yanked a patio cushion off one of the chairs and turned to drop it onto the flames, when her face fell in an even more horrified look, eyes wide. They were clearly deceiving her. Standing in front of the fire was…was…

_No. It couldn’t be._

Lyanna giggled, dancing in place in the fire, before hopping out, not a lick of ash or soot on her. She turned back to the fire and used her skirt to wipe out the flames, stepping on the remaining embers. “See? It’s a fun trick.”

“It’s so fun!” Little Sam exclaimed.

“It is _not_!” she yelped, before she could think of anything else to say. She stared at Lyanna, eyebrows slamming to a point. “I think you should leave Lyanna. Come on, I’ll take you back. Sam, you stay right there.”

“But…”

“No!”

She grabbed the little girl’s hand, shaking and unsure where this sudden strength came from, hurrying her across the adjoining yard and through a side gate that just… _appeared._ Her determination faltered. “Um…is this…where is the door?”

“Right through there,” Lyanna said, glum. She let go of her hand and sighed, sulking back into the yard, walking down a stone path lined in dark trees. Gilly gaped, when they came into a clearing, a large white trunked-tree with blood-red leaves sitting in the middle.

And even scarier than the tree, which had a _face_ carved in the trunk, was a young man seated in a wheelchair, his eyes… _white_

“Oh my gods!” Gilly shouted, forgetting herself.

Lyanna waved her hand. “Don’t mind him, that’s Uncle Bran.”

“Uncle…Bran?”

“He’s visiting his ravens you see. Come, you were taking me to get in trouble, right?”

“Uh…”

The door to a glass conservatory opened, Daenerys emerging, her cheeks flushed, and a bunch of gorgeous sapphire blue roses clutched in her fist. “Lyanna! Have you finished your playdate? Here darling, take this inside and put them in some water. Good girl.”

“Can I feed Drogon today?”

 _Drogon?_ Gilly wondered. _A new family member?_

“Perhaps sweetling.” Daenerys was once again wearing an old-fashioned sort of dress, with high collar and the silver dragon chain crossed over her chest. Gilly smoothed her hand over her jeans, wondering how this woman could wear such fine clothing and jewelry just around her house. There were some days where if Gilly had to put on a bra, she would change her entire schedule to avoid it. Never mind wear a heavy dress that appeared to come from a costume shop.

Except upon closer inspection, this was no costume shop dress. It had quite intricate detailing, silver threads throughout and the shimmery material at the shoulders resembling scales. _Odd_ , she thought. Then again, Daenerys was quite odd. Everyone at this house was odd.

Gilly drew her shoulders back. “I came to say that Lyanna was playing with fire in front of Little Sam.”

“Oh yes, she does that.”

“Well, I don’t approve of it. Children should certainly not be playing with fire, they could hurt themselves, cause a major problem, and it’s just…” Gilly frowned, unsure why she felt like she had to explain to an adult why _playing with fire_ was wrong. It was something that everyone learned as a child at some point or another. She huffed. “Well it’s wrong.”

Daenerys smiled, mysteriously again, her pretty purple eyes twinkling. “Well I will let Lyanna know not to do so around Little Sam. Although I can assure you, she is quite adept with fire, there is no one you would rather want around if a flame happens to be near, than my sweet Lyanna.”

“Well she is a child; she shouldn’t be playing with fire.”

That had Daenerys’s back straightening, her eyes no longer twinkling but sharp, warning, and her voice cool. “Well she is my child and I will raise her how I see fit, but I will let her know not to do so around yours.” Daenerys folded her hands in front of her stomach, arching a brow again. “I am sorry though that you feel this way about her. Shall I tell her that you no longer wish for her to play with Little Sam?”

Gilly felt bad; Sam had few friends and she wondered if the same was for Lyanna. “Erm,” she stammered, closing her eyes. _Gods help me._ “Well, no…just…no fire, okay?”

“No fire.” Daenerys cocked her head, gesturing towards the house. “Would you care for some tea?”

Before Gilly could reply, she heard a sound and looked up to see Lyanna calling from a balcony, two doors wide behind her. “Mai!” she called, waving down at them. She pointed back to the house. “Papa is doing that thing again, you wanted me to tell you?”

Daenerys pressed her hand to her chest, eyes closing. “Oh gods, yes of course. I am so sorry, Gilly I will have to take ah, how do you people say? A _raincheck_ , yes?” She ushered her towards the gate. “Have a good rest of your day!”

Too stunned to realize she was being summarily dismissed, Gilly left the house, frowning and peering up at the balcony, where she could still see movement, this time through the open doors. She frowned, watching Daenerys’s bright silver hair like a beacon, bobbing around as she fussed with something. She cocked her head, unsure what she was even looking at when she saw someone else stand, skin as white as snow, and her eyes widened when she realized it was Daenerys’s husband, Jon, and he was without a shirt.

It wasn’t that he had no shirt on that surprised Gilly—although she did briefly think that he looked quite fine without a shirt—it was the marks that covered his chest, dark and gaping.

She was a nurse, she had seen plenty of terrible things in her time, but she had certainly never seen anyone with marks like that and…and _survive._

To her horror, she was sure that Jon saw her, his dark eyes focusing on hers; she swallowed hard, unable to move her feet, and then he reached over and pulled the doors shut, closing off her ability to see anything going on inside the room. She should have felt embarrassed for watching like some creepy voyeur, but she was too surprised, stunned even. She shook her head briefly, returning to her body.

_Who in the seven hells were her neighbors?_

* * *

  
“Sam I’m telling you there’s something just not right with them.” Gilly stood at the window, peering towards Dragonstone, but she couldn’t see much through the mist that had formed around the manor earlier that week. It seemed to never dissipate, while the rest of the neighborhood remained sunny. Sam told her she was just seeing things, but she wasn’t so sure. “I mean, I know I was a little rude about Lyanna…”

“Sounds like you were very rude.”

She huffed. “She was lighting fires, Sam! _Fires!_ ”

“But to tell her mother off the way you did?” Sam appeared chagrined the moment she glared at him. He set down the book he was reading, getting up and walking over to look out the window with her. “I’m sorry, it just…maybe she’s just taking your words into account. You didn’t want her daughter playing with Sammy.”

They’d started referring to Little Sam as Sammy because he was getting bullied at school, she’d discovered, by other kids who heard that that was what he went by at home. She felt horrible for calling him by the name when she picked him up; no doubt that was when they heard it. “I know, but I also wonder if it had to do with what I saw in the window.”

“Gilly, there’s no such things as vampires or zombies.”

“He had wounds Sam! On his chest! Like they had just happened, and he was walking around and everything!” She felt rather crazy, shrill and sounding like those women she hated in scary movies. She sighed, gazing back towards the manor, shaking her head at the sight of a cloud of ravens going up from the back gardens, through the red trees of the weirwood.

While she fretted over their new neighbors, Sam was intrigued. He wanted desperately to inspect the weirwood, having never seen one before. She came from the North, she’d seen one once up there, but this one had leaves far redder than the one up beyond the Wall. “Those ravens give me the willies,” Sam announced, shivering. “I feel like they’re screaming my name.”

“Ravens don’t scream.”

“Actually they can form human voices, they’re even capable of making sounds as close to human voices more so than parrots,” Sam chirped, throwing out knowledge like she asked for it. He ducked his head at another glare, mumbling: “Sorry.”

“Well Sammy will be back from school soon enough. I’ll be downstairs.” She left, going into the kitchen to get his snack ready. She barely had some carrots and celery laid out when the front door opened, banging loudly against the wall. “Oi! Save the door!”

“Mum!”

At Sammy’s exclamation, she rushed from the kitchen, eyes wide. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, guess what?” Sammy laughed, throwing his backpack on the ground. He jumped up onto the couch, laughing and happier than she’d seen him in _weeks_. “These kids at school, they said some things, and…and then Lyanna…she just…” He threw his arms out, making a loud explosion sound. “Boom! And _Lommy’s eyebrows came right off!_ ”

She gaped. “What!?”

“Yeah, yeah, then she helped me with my coat.”

“What coat?” Gilly looked around, noting that yeah, he hadn’t a coat. She pinned her hands to her hips, chastising him. “Sammy! It’s autumn! It’s getting cold, where did you lose your coat?”

“I didn’t like it, so Lyanna helped me with it.” He went to his backpack and opened it up, removing a charred remnant of what used to be his coat. He grinned wide. “And _none_ of the kids made fun of my name anymore!”

 _Oh my gods…_ Gilly opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, before she stormed from the house, marching down the drive and the street and then up to the front door of Dragonstone, full of righteous indignation. She banged on the doorknocker, shouting. “Excuse me! Is anyone home!?”

The door swung open and she pitched forward, righting herself quickly. She looked up, seeing Jon studying her, a dark brow arched. He scratched his beard. “Hello Ms. Tarly.”

“Um, Jon.”

“Aye.”

She had no idea how to behave around him. Her eyes fell to his black suit, crisp and impeccable, not a speck of dust on it. He lifted his brows again, amused. She tried not to think about the marks she’d seen on his skin, swallowing hard. “Um, I was wondering if I could maybe speak with you and ah, your wife.”

“She’s in the kitchen. Come in.” He looked over her shoulder, nodding. “Sam.”

“Hello Jon. Gilly, I do not think this is necessary…” Sam tried to pull her away, but she went into the manor, her adrenaline keeping any fear from paralyzing her, moving into the dark space. It was filled with dragons, wolves, and dark draperies and tapestries. The walls were shiny stone, the furniture velvet and plush. There was actually a large plasma television mounted on a wall in what appeared to be a family room, with an entire wall of books.

Sam caught sight of them, eyes huge. “Wow…what a collection!”

“Hmm, there’s more in the libraries.”

“Libraries!” Sam yelped. “As in plural?”

Jon frowned at him. He looked like Sam was the crazy one. “Aye.”

In main room they passed through, Gilly stopped long enough to stare at a massive portrait on the wall, of Daenerys and Jon, except they weren’t wearing normal clothing. It looked like armor in Jon’s case, while Daenerys wore an intricate gown with cape. Crowns rested on their heads and her hand curled around the arm of a throne, while he stood at her side, his hand on her shoulder and the other on the wolf-head pommel of a sword. “Oh…wow,” she mumbled, caught off guard at the painting’s brilliance.

“Aye, she’s quite beautiful.” Jon sighed at the portrait, smiling warmly. “My queen.”

 _An odd endearment._ Gilly frowned, glancing at him. She didn’t say anything, because Daenerys entered the room, gliding like she had when she first met her, in another dark dress, this one over black leggings and boots. She was as elegant as ever. “ _Issa daria_ ,” she cooed, reaching for Jon. He murmured approval and leaned down to kiss her. Their kiss lasted a little longer than Gilly considered appropriate, and she cleared her throat, which forced them apart, but not before Jon’s hand dropped to Dany’s arse, squeezing lightly.

She gaped; almost forgetting why she’d come in the first place. Jon pulled Dany to his side, studying them again. “The Tarlys here seem upset about something. Does this have anything to do with Lyanna coming home saying something about bullies?” He frowned, his gray eyes flashing. “We do not care for bullies, we’ve had our fair share over the years, Lyanna is quite sensitive to them.”  
Dany appeared pained. "She's such a dear, she's always so well behaved, I don't know why they go after her so."

Gilly scanned the kitchen; it was dark, but rather cavernous, with open shelving and racks of equipment. All of it looked quite old. A hearth that appeared like it could fit several fires took up half the room, a fire crackling on one side, and a black pot hanging over it on a spit. She glanced at one of the shelves, overflowing with mismatched bottles, canisters, and bunches of dried plants hanging from the rafters. She swallowed hard again, finding her strength, and scowled at the couple, who were still tangled in each other's arms, neither one paying any attention to either her or Sam.

Sam, thankfully, was looking away from them, and seemed genuinely interested in a bunch of old texts open on one of the tables. "Is this Old Valyrian?" he wondered.

Jon's hand whipped out and shut one of the books. "Yes," he said.

Dany beamed once more. "It's such a gorgeous language."

"Hmm," Jon agreed. He lowered his mouth back to his wife, murmuring nothings while she purred up at him, tugging at the front of his shirt.

Gilly squeaked. "We're here to talk about Lyanna!"

The other woman tore herself from her husband, giggling when he whispered something in her ear and swatted his hand from her arse. "Later, my love." Her violet eyes filled with love, shining bright. "When the dragons go to sleep and the rest of the wolves are out hunting."

His gray eyes crinkled, smiling. "I’ll hold you do that, my queen."

She giggled, moving away from him and to the counter, which was scattered with various items, none of which looked like a thing Gilly had seen in the grocery store. "You said something about our sweet Lyanna?"

 _Sweet is a word for it._ "Yes," Gilly answered, righting herself again. She scowled. "She apparently..." she trailed off, frowning at how odd it sounded. She wondered if she was mad. "Um..." she glanced to Sam, who was more interested in the books than he was in finding out what was happening with their child. She huffed. "Well she burned off a kid's eyebrows!"

The two people in front of her only blinked. "And?" Jon asked.

"And?" she repeated. She squeaked. "She burned off a kid's eyebrows!"

"Did he deserve it?"

Dany nodded. "yes, there's been a vicious little boy there who has been going after the weak." A dark look crossed her face, her soft voice hardening, forcing Gilly back a step. The switch in personalities was so fast it was almost frightening. "I do not like bullies. People who prey upon the weak." She picked up a flower from the pile in front of her and a set of rusty shears, snapping angrily at the thorns. "It's not right. Lyanna knows that."

"But..."

"It sounds like this bully got what he deserved." Jon walked over to an archway leading to a dark corridor. He disappeared a moment, while Gilly searched for the words to respond. She really couldn't understand.

It was...well... _yes_ the bully had been dealt with. Sammy had actually be happy to come home from school and was truly smiling. She gulped. "Sam," she hissed, stalking to him. "What do you have to say to this?"

"How do you know Old Valyrian?" Sam wondered, barely acknowledging her question. She rolled her eyes. She never should have brought him.

Dany peered over, a pile of chopped up flowers in front of her, the shears snapping angrily. "It's my mother tongue." She turned her peculiar eyes on Gilly, smiling again, once softer and gentler. "It's the loveliest language, I could teach you a bit. It's quite passionate. Does things for the soul...and the body."

Gilly flushed. "I'm quite fine there, thank you." She smoothed her hands on her jeans. "I also wish to speak to you about Lyanna...." She turned, as Jon entered the kitchen again.

This time he was accompanied by Lyanna, who was in the same dark dress and tights she'd been wearing when Gilly first met her. Her dark curls were tugged from her face in a severe braid and her purple-gray eyes were bored. She resembled her mother in face, but her father in mood. "I'm not supposed to set fires around Sammy, but I didn't," she said, before anyone spoke to her.

She sighed hard, rolling her eyes, droning. "All I did was tell Lommy to stop making fun of Sammy. It's not my fault he lost his eyebrows." A very little smile pulled on her pink lips. "He made me angry."

 _Oh my gods this child is a demon_ , Gilly thought, staring at her blankly. Sam clapped his hands together. "Well there you have it!"

"But...but what about Sammy's coat?" she asked, weakly.

Lyanna shrugged. She did the same thing Jon did, brushing imaginary dirt from her sleeve. "I don't know what happened to that. He didn't like it, now he doesn’t have to worry about it."

The child spoke like an adult, her words crisp. Jon shrugged. "See? No problem now." He frowned at her. "But you should know not to be doing anything with fire at school."

"Or at all," Gilly tried to get out, but she bit down on her tongue.

Dany snapped at another flower, sending thorns flying onto the stone floor. "I suppose this is done then." She shot a look over, frowning. "Bullies are not acceptable to me, I do not care for them, do not wish to associate with anyone who looks down their nose at someone." She looked away, hurt and quiet. "And my daughter knows that too."

Gilly realized the woman referred to _her_ with the way she glanced at her, the pointedness in her words. She swallowed hard once more, throat constricting around a dry lump there. She nodded quickly. "Well, alright then, um...thank...thank you Lyanna. I'm sure...sure Sammy is glad the bully has stopped. As am I."

"You're welcome, but like I said." Lyanna shrugged. "I don't know how he caught on fire." She rolled her eyes up to her father. "Can I go back to Uncle Viserys now? He wants to see if he's a dragon."

"He is not!" Dany shouted, slamming her hands on the counter. She grabbed her skirt and stormed around the counter, shouting in another language, waving her hands and going to some door, leaning down a stairwell, screaming in it. Gilly had no idea what she was saying, but whatever it was, Jon's eyes went black and Lyanna rolled hers.

"Um, we should go," Sam said, as Lyanna stalked off, mumbling something about how her parents were "so gross". He turned, to go out the door, but stopped suddenly as a young man in a wheelchair blocked their path. "Ah...hello."

The young man had a somber face, his voice hollow when he spoke. "Hello Samwell."

"Bran," a warning came from nearby. A tapestry moved, startling Gilly backwards into Sam, who yelped in fright. The young woman who had originally opened the door when they originally met the family appeared like she was a ghost. She smiled; her gray eyes haunting. "Hello."

"Um...hello...Arya, was it?" she asked, trying to be nice.

Arya barely nodded. She dropped her hand to the young man's shoulder. "This is my brother Bran."

"I am the Three-Eyed Raven," Bran said, staring hard at them both. He turned his head slowly to Sam. "You will have a great misstep Samwell; you would be wise to look where you plant your feet."

Gilly gaped, horrified. She barely had a moment to say anything before Sam grabbed her hand, squealed something in reply to the man, and tugged her hard out of the house. They ran through the big rooms and corridors to the front door, in time to see it opening, as if of its own accord. "Ghosts!" she shrieked.

A white figure moved around the door and she screamed, terrified that it was true, but instead of a ghost it was...Ghost.

The white wolf eyed them, and she had a fleeting thought he might have opened the door. Sam pushed her out and they ran back to their house, but on the way across their yard, Sam missed a step and tripped, falling right into her, both of them tumbling to the grass.

She lay there, heart racing, staring up at the sky. A large burst of ravens came from the tree beside them, screaming. "Oh my gods!' she shouted, jumping up and running back to the house.

Sam ran after her. "I told you they were saying my name!"

Yup, the ravens definitely sounded like they were saying "Sam."

Gilly slammed the door and ran upstairs to where she had a good view of the house again, gazing over. She couldn't see anything more but shuddered. "They're nice, but....gods they're creepy!"

"Spooky," Sam agreed.

Sammy wandered into their room. "I'm going out to play," he announced. He smiled. "Lyanna is coming over, is that okay?"

Gilly was too surprised that he actually had a friend, she couldn't say anything. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her head, supposing it was alright. Even if the girl had issues, who wouldn't, living in that house?


	3. in which the targaryens stop an intruder...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Targaryens stop an intruder at the Tarly house.

"Sammy please be careful," Gilly called, watching her son darting in and out of the movie theater ticket stalls, spinning around the metal bars. She had hoped that getting out of the house for a day of activity would have calmed him, but it seemed to only encourage him. Between a day-long beach trip, wildlife center excursion, dinner at his favorite restaurant, and then a movie, she was the one in need of a decades long nap, while her son only wanted to do more. 

At her side, Sam was not much help, listening to his messages, his phone having been off during the movie. He grabbed her elbow, jerking her to a stop, eyes wide as he listened to something. "OH my gods! Gilly, check your phone, did Daenerys call you?"

"How would she have gotten my number?" She had been very careful not to provide any contact information to the creepy family next door, unsure what would happen if they knew exactly how to reach her at all times. She grabbed Sammy as he ran by her, pulling him to her by the edge of his hoodie. Her eyes widened at Sam's panic-filled face "Gods, what is it? Is it the house?"

"She says there's some lights on over at the house, wanted to see if we were there...I just got another one...they said the alarm is going on...Gods I think there was a break in!" Sam frantically pressed a button for another message. He pushed his hand over his hair. "Yes, it's the alarm company! We need to get home, someone broke in!"

"Well call the police!"

"They did, alarm company is trying to check with us make sure we're alright, oh gods!"

Sammy perked up; eyes wide. "Break in?" He grabbed her hand, yanking hard. "Mummy! Did they take my Nights Watch 2: Return of the Night King game? I NEED TO BEAT THAT BOSS ON LEVEL THREE!" He looked near tears at the idea that someone would have stolen the game he'd recently received for his birthday. "What if I can _never_ beat him!?"

 _Oh good gods._ She tugged him after her to the car. "Come on, let's get home and see what's what." Her heart was racing in her chest while Sam called the alarm company back, trying to figure out what had happened while they were away. Which thank the gods they were away! She couldn't imagine what would have happened if they were at home. 

And what did the Targaryens have anything to do with this break-in? How did Daenerys get their phone number? So many questions. She scribbled down on a movie theater napkin the information Sam was able to get from the alarm company, but for some reason he couldn't remember one of their passcodes so they wouldn't give him all of it. "How do you not remember?" she shouted, irritated. 

"Well I don't know, they wanted so many..."

"Samwell, honestly!" She glared at the speedometer. "And you could go a little faster!"

"Well I don't want to get pulled over!"

"If you do, tell the copper to come with us and find out who broke into our house, bloody seven hells!"

Sammy laughed in the backseat playing his handheld game. "Haha, you swore." He kicked at the back of her seat. "Like Vis does."

She turned in her seat, scowling. "Who is Vis?"

"Lyanna's uncle, he swears all the time."

"I thought I told you not to go over there!" The rule was Lyanna could come to their house but only when she or Sam were present. Sammy could not go over; she didn't quite trust that family yet. They were just too strange for her liking. It didn't make sense to her and she didn't know what Sammy could encounter there, so maybe it was wrong of her, especially after seeing how upset Daenerys got at the concept of her daughter being bullied, but she just didn't know what would happen and Sammy was her only child.

And now there was this mysterious Uncle she had never met and the two times she'd heard of him, she wasn't quite sure she wanted to meet him. Sammy shrugged, not paying much attention. "He's funny, keeps saying he's a dragon."

"He is obviously mentally disturbed," she sniffed. 

"Well he's crazy. Lyanna always starts fires, but he can't walk through them like her."

 _What in the bloody seven hells?_ She closed her eyes, a headache just throbbing horrifically behind her forehead. "I cannot deal with this now," she muttered. She pushed Sam's knee, forcing his foot down on the accelerator. "Drive faster!"

He yelped. "I'm driving"!

"Not fast enough!"

They arrived sometime later; far slower than they would have if she had been driving, Gilly insisted, and pulled into the driveway, greeted by all the lights on in her house, door wide open, and a police car arriving at the same time as them, lights blaring. She jumped from the car, rushing towards the front, where she could see several people milling about on the lawn. "Oh my gods, is everything alright?"

She almost fell over at the sight itself. Why it would be anything different, she couldn't say, not that she knew what one came upon when they arrived home after someone tried to break into their house. All she knew was this probably wasn’t it. 

Daenerys was sitting atop the back of a massive man who was growling and cursing behind a black silk tie used as a gag, her knees pinning him down at the shoulders. She was wearing a curious outfit, leather pants, boots, and a burlap-like tank-top with her hands bound in cloth. A necklace of teeth hung around her neck. She looked up and waved, smiling in the beatific way Gilly had begun to associate with her. "Oh you're back! You got my messages!"

"What...what..." Sam stuttered, staring. He jumped, yelping again. "Is that a _sword_!?"

Standing beside another one of the would-be burglars, Jon Snow had two hands on the pommel of a massive shining silver sword, the tip of it blindingly sharp, glinting at the neck of the other burglar. He was in his pristine black suit. Gilly briefly wondered if he had any other outfits. He peered up at them, face rather bored, but confusion wrinkling over his brow at Sam's question. "Aye. Tis' Longclaw."

"Longclaw?" Sam blurted. 

"Why do you have a sword?" Sammy wondered, strolling up. He grinned. "Can I hold it?"

"No!" she shouted, at the same time Jon shrugged in answer to 'yes.' She looked at the two burglars, who were still trying to wiggle away. She closed her eyes, holding them shut a moment. Maybe when she opened them, things would be normal again. She could wake up from this insane dream. That's all this was. A strange dream. She peeked one eye open, but nothing had changed. 

If anything, it got weirder, as the police officer approached, a kindly looking man with glasses and salt and pepper beard. "Jon, Daenerys," he greeted.

"Davos," they said at the same time.

The older gentleman peered down at the two men who were still fighting on the ground. "And who have we here? Bronn, that you? I thought I arrested your sorry arse ages ago." He tutted under his breath and removed his handcuffs, smiling at them both. "Officer Davos Seaworth, pleasure to meet you both, although not so much under these circumstances."

It did not make Gilly feel _any_ better about her neighbors that they were on a first name basis with the local police department. She scowled. "How do you know our neighbors?" she asked.

"Oh we go way back," he said airily, casually waving his hand. "And one of my old mates Gendry lives with them, how is the lad? Haven’t seen him around much."

"He's often tied up," Jon answered.

"Ah yes, busy with young Arya?"

Dany blinked, innocent. "No, he's usually tied up. He's unable to get out of the constrictor knots, they're very difficult." She batted her eyelashes at Jon. "Only Jon can do that. Right _zokla_?"

"Hmm," Jon hummed, his eyes getting the dark look in them again. He growled. "Aye. In fact, these two disturbed our evening. We were about to get tied up ourselves."

"Date night?" Davos asked casually, assisting Daenerys with hoisting the one burglar Bronn up to his feet. He tsked, taking off the silk tie around Bronn's mouth, handing it back to Dany. "I think you might need that for later, might want to wash it of course."

"Of course," she agreed, stuffing it away. She winked at Gilly. "I find that tying up is very beneficial, it’s an exercise in trust." She pursed her lips to her husband, who grabbed hold of her tiny waist, jerking her against him. "And Jon always does enjoy being tied up, right love?"

He growled again. Then turned his dark gaze on her, cocking his head slightly. "We were beginning our evening events when Ghost saw a light on. He went to investigate and alerted us to the intruder.” He swung the sword easily in one hand, not an easy feat, judging by the weight of it, and Gilly had to look away from the powerful flexing in his bicep as he did so. “We came to assist at once, fearing you both were in peril.”

The odd way he spoke, using such old-fashioned terms and his rough Northern accent, Gilly still was not quite sure she wasn’t living in a sort of dream world. She blinked hard, but nope, once again, back in this current one. “And…and you came with a…sword?” she squeaked.

Sam was still gaping at it, while Davos and another officer who arrived were bustling off the would-be thieves. He swallowed hard. “That’s a real sword too…not like…like a cosplay?”

“What is a cosplay?” Jon asked, confused.

Dany looked up at him, frowning, her hand covering his over her hip. “I think it is like role play, yes? Although not sexual.” She smiled again, eyes crinkling. “Jon and I enjoy roleplay. Our favorite is when we were king and queen. It is quite enjoyable, spices things up, although we really do not lose our lust for each other. How long has it been love?”

He gazed down at her, adoration shining in his small smile, the way he leaned closer to her, purring. “Seems like a thousand years.”

“But also just like yesterday,” she sighed, touching her fingertips to his cheek, the light coming in from the open doors and windows glinting off her rings, her eyes shining as well. She nuzzled his nose, murmuring in Valyrian again, which had him gripping her tighter against him, a little giggle escaping her lips. She allowed him to press a hard kiss to her cheek, tugging her close. “We should return to our evening. As Jon said, we came at once when Ghost told us. They broke your defenses easily enough, perhaps you should find alternative tripwires.”

Now it was her turn to gape, turning to Sam, who was still marveling at the sword in Jon’s hand. She could not believe these two. One moment they were on the ground with a sword on a burglar’s neck and the tiny woman clearly keeping a man three times her size under full control, and the next they were practically having intercourse on her front lawn and speaking of defenses and tripwires. She pushed her palms into her eyes. “Wait…what did you say about Ghost?” For some reason her mind only focused on that particular statement.

“Ghost,” Dany said, shrugging. “He told us.”

“But he’s a dog,” Sam said weakly.

Jon scowled. “He’s a wolf. He does not like to be referred to as a common… _dog._ ” He spat the last word out, disdainful. He shuddered. “We are not a dog.”

Sam picked up on that one. “We?”

The other man opened his mouth, but snapped it shut again, a tight smile tugging on his lips. “Figure of speech.” 

_What is wrong with these people?_ Gilly wanted to sob out loud. She was about to ask him to please repeat again—maybe she’d had too much to drink at dinner—when Sammy shouted, pointing towards Dragonstone. 

“Look, someone’s running away!” he yelled, laughing. 

Gilly squeaked, jumping up while the police officers gazed over. Davos chuckled. “Ah, there’s Gendry. He’s quite the runner that one, very fast, although…is that Arya?”

“Hmm, seems he escaped again,” Jon murmured, unperturbed. He sighed, shaking his head, swinging the sword at his side as he moved Dany towards the driveway. “Come love, let us return…I have plans for you tonight.”

She giggled, jumping up into his arms, kissing him with a loud ‘smack’ on the mouth. “I can hardly wait. We best get back before Lyanna bores Aemon to death and comes to find us, since Gendry and Arya are busy.” 

A male shouting for help had Gilly clutching Sam, watching as a young man ran away from the house, but a small dark figure she assumed was Arya tackled him into the grass, before hauling him up and leading him back to the house. She stared briefly at Dany and Jon, who were bemused at the sight. “Um, is he alright?”

“He will be fine, it is a game they like to play,” Dany explained. She tapped Jon’s nose and he snapped his teeth to her fingers. She giggled again, girlish and high. “Now, now my wolf, patience.” She smiled, leaning her head to his shoulder and he tightened his grip on her side, idly kissing her brow. 

It was rather sweet, Gilly thought. She was about to ask them just how long exactly they had been married, when a loud squawk filled the quiet evening. She gazed up, a cloud of ravens pouring out of an open window at the top of the house and she distinctly heard another, deeper screech, quite different from the birds. She shivered. “What…what is that sound?”

Jon glanced around, bored. “What sound?”

“That shriek?” she whispered, hearing it again and jumping in place. “That one!”

They glanced at each other again and Dany only smiled, eyebrow arching. “There’s no sound, perhaps you need to get some rest. It’s been quite an evening.”

Gilly opened her mouth again to explain that she was _not_ making it up, she did hear something, but Sam prevented her, gripping her elbow. The two waved at them and sauntered off to their house, Jon swinging the sword at his side, and Dany shoving her hand into the back pocket of his suit pants, obviously squeezing his arse, which had Gilly flushing. _They really don’t mind that PDA_ , she thought, sighing.

Sammy waved at them. “Bye Mr. Jon and Mrs. Dany! Can I come over and see Lyanna tomorrow?”

“Of course!” Dany exclaimed, glancing over her shoulder and waving. “Just come on by whenever.” 

Jon barely smiled, but his eyes were a little lighter. “I can teach you how to hold the sword if you want. Lyanna knows how, she would love to join.”

Gilly was too dumbfounded to throw herself in front of her son and the strange couple from next door and say no, he would never be going to their house. She glanced at Davos, who had come to them with paperwork, to go over it inside while someone took the criminals to the police station. She stuttered; her throat hoarse. “How…how do you know them?”

Davos chuckled. “Everyone knows the Targaryens. They’ve been around, well…seems like a few thousand years or so.”

“And you…” Sam was the one who gulped now. “Like them?”

He frowned, before smiling again, polite. “Well yes. They’re a bit odd, but very good neighbors. Jon is quite something with a sword, let me tell you and never get on Daenerys’s bad side, she’ll just burn you alive,” Davos chuckled. He sobered up, serious. “But you know, people don’t quite get them now and then. Alternative lifestyles and the like. But they do love each other, and they love their family. Not many would put up with Daenerys’s brother, and that sister of Arya’s is a right strange woman.”

 _Stranger than Arya!?_ Gilly and Sam exchanged another terrified look. She took his hands, squeezing hard. “Um, what about…about the girl? Lyanna?”

“Sweet little thing. Very lonely of course. Now, can we go inside and finish this paperwork?” Davos smiled politely, nudging them towards the front door. “I’d like to stop over there before I return to the station and catch up with Gendry, before he gets well, locked up again.”

It was possible it was just a figure of speech, but at the sound of what again seemed like a dragon screech, Gilly was pretty sure he was being literal. 

And she needed a bloody drink.


End file.
